Child of the Wastes
by 0 The Fool
Summary: Elise was the daughter of an NCR Ranger who retired to Novac. Persuaded away from a life in the military, she traded her natural talent for a simple, safer job as a courier, but is proven wrong after waking from a bullet in the head. M for later chapters.
1. Prologue

_Fallout does not belong to me, though I really wish it did! Only Elise, my personal version of the female Courier is my property, along with her father, Ranger Danley. This prologue chapter has no description of Elise due to the simple fact that, honestly, it was the last thing on my mind when I wrote this up on paper, and since she's only a child right now, it doesn't matter much since that isn't what you will read about. There will naturally be constant revision as the readers review. Anyways, I hope all you good people enjoy my story, and I plan to transcribe the second chapter soon!_

_January 10, 2274  
__Outside Legion Exploratory Camp, East of Novac  
__0800 Hours, Pacific Standard Time_

"Alright Elise, you've shot this thing before, so you know it kicks like a mule. Now then, make sure the bi-pod's set securely. Atta girl... Now then, today, we're going to take down a whole troop of Caesar's Legionnaires. Are you ready dear?" The voice of an older man, who one could assume was well into his forties, spoke. His face was masked by a dark, thick beard, and his dark eyes were hidden behind the bangs of ragged long hair. As he continued instructing his daughter, his voice remained hushed as he peered through a spotter's scope at a camp full of Caesar's men.

"Daddy, are you sure I can do this?" The young girl lying on her belly asked, looking over the ridge where they held a position, her gaze through the scope of an Anti-Materiel Rifle settled upon the same camp her father was spotting.

"I'm sure Elise. Now, before we get started and the others get in position, where do you aim in this situation?"The man asked, his voice remaining as quiet as possible.

"When shooting at extreme distances, aim for the center of mass, because, while a head-shot is preferred due to more certain results, if it is beyond the capability of the shooter, a shot through the chest with most sniper rounds will cause a kill. Almost as certainly as a head-shot would." Elise answered.

"Perfect response, baby." Her father replied, marking a few notes down on a pad as he took more measurements. "Alright, now that we're set up, if everything's as we scouted out, they should be coming out right about... Now." He said, passing the note off to his daughter. "Adjust to those variables and your shots should be good. The team should be in place now, so whenever you're ready, take a shot, and the attack will begin."

The man couldn't contain his prideful grin as his daughter twisted the dials of her scope, then shouldered her rifle and aimed again. "Got one sighted?" He asked, to which she responded with a quick nod. "Alright, remember, bottom of the exhale, squeeze, don't pull." He reminded her.

Elise could feel the adrenaline surging in her body, steadying her hands, but rattling her nerves. As she let loose one long breath, her eyes widened as her finger closed firmly around the trigger, causing the large rifle to roar, kicking back hard into her shoulder despite however prepared she might be. Her father gave a congratulatory remark as he watched the body of a Legionnaire collapse, a sizable portion of his chest missing, along with an arm.

Soon after her first shot, the other members of their team, a sniper who was about to join the NCR Military by the name of Boone, along with his friend, Manny, joined in with shots of their own. Soon, between the two sniper teams, the whole camp was dead, seven bodies littering the ground.

"Wait... Seven? Weren't their eight?" Elise's father asked. As if on cue, a cry sounded from behind them, and as Elise and her father turned, a machete went clean through her left eye, splitting it down the middle and leaving a grievous wound that leaked blood, fluid, and chips of bone, showing white beneath her skin.

Shrieking in pain, Elise brought her hands up to her now useless eye and began backing away as the Legionnaire advanced on her, swinging his machete diagonally, leaving a bloody swatch across her body before the lone Explorer tackled her, causing them both to go tumbling over the ridge where Elise had killed his comrades. Rolling downhill towards the camp, leaving sand trailing in clouds behind them, they struggled against each other, the Legionnaire at an obvious advantage.

Eventually, the Legionnaire, now without his machete, got a good hold of Elise's neck, and was so focused on the single-minded task of strangling the life out of this little murderer that he was unaware of the angry father sliding down the ridge behind him. As he closed the distance between them, Elise's father raised his Sequoia, took aim, and pulled the trigger, the loud revolver kicking up high, but the bullet flying true, exploding the Legionnaire's head into pieces, and the body falling onto his daughter, bathing her in blood from the now headless body.

As he walked over and turned the body over and off of his daughter, he caught site of a combat knife sticking out of the Explorer's chest. As he holstered his revolver, Elise's father couldn't help but give a grin of pride in his daughter, who returned his smile with her own, severely weakened grin. She had helped eliminate a threat to their pleasant home of Novac, and she couldn't have been prouder than she was now. However, as she struggled to her feet, she realized exactly what eliminating a threat meant as she saw the disgusting aftermath of the battle in front of her and lost what little she'd eaten for breakfast.

Despite pride, Elise had every right to get sick over such a deed. Especially when she wound up covered in the blood of the last target.

Her father sighed. "Just make sure this is the last time you get so squeamish about killing. The Legion aren't even people. They'd do the same or worse to you." He informed her. "Now come on, let's get back to Novac and clean you up."

"I-I... I did good, right? Daddy?" Elise asked her father, her little voice trembling as her knees wobbled, her weak smile still painting her little face, before she dropped to the ground, losing all consciousness.

"Yeah, you did good babe. Now let's get home." Her dad said, scooping her up as the other sniper pair came down their hillside to meet him. The duo immediately gave him a syringe of Med-X, which he injected into his daughter.

It wasn't a long hike to Novac, but with a little girl who was being regularly pumped with so much Med-X it was dripping from her ears in tow, it took a little longer than usual. It was nightfall before the group could even see Dinky the Dino, but once they did, whoever had been stationed for the night-watch raised some kind of alarm, and soon, the kind people of Novac were about them, Doc Ada, who stopped by often, having one of her guards take Elise so she could patch the little girl up.

Ranger Andy, who had been retired for some time, limped over to his NCR colleagues. "What the hell happened Danley! I thought you said it would be nothing serious!" He shouted angrilly.

"It wasn't." The young sniper, Boone, said, defending the other Ranger who had "brought his daughter to work".

"Yeah, I think she's got what it takes." Danley said happily.

"What the hell did you just say, Ranger?" Andy growled.

"My little Elise just helped Boone and Manny here eliminate a camp of Legionnaires! She even got the last one in hand-to-hand!" Danley exclaimed proudly, almost laughing.

"She does have a hell of a shot, but I doubt the validity of that hand-to-hand kill." Manny said.

These remarks earned Danley a fierce punch to the face, and the whole group an angry lecture. Andy was disgusted by such disregard for a child's life. "She's just a little girl! You're living in a safe community you idiot, let her be a child!" Andy cried in anger and frustration at such stupidity, his teeth bared in an expression of primal anger.

Danley was somewhat sobered by Andy's response, but he still didn't agree with his view. "Look, things may be better here, but it's still a far-cry from the world we've read about. It's still a wasteland, she still needs to know how to survive. And I honestly think she could be First Recon, or a Ranger, maybe better." Danley said, voice more rational, but still full of hidden pride. "Anyways, my daughter's hurt, and if you don't mind, I'd like to get cleaned up so I can visit her." Danley finished, leaving Andy to walk to his own apartment.

Only a few minutes were required for Danley to wash what little grime had accumulated from his body, and after doing so, he was on his way to Doc Straus's tent to see Elise. Immediately, Straus was out to scold Danley for endangering his daughter's life, but she relented after a few minutes, and the klutz of a doctor allowed Danley to see his daughter. When he entered the tent, he immediately found a chair and sat next to his daughter.

Her little body was lying shirtless on a bed, her torso wrapped completely, a red oval staining the white bandages, the only evidence of her chest injury. Her eye was likewise covered, leaving only a portion of her pretty young face visible.

As he looked over her, Danley felt his chest swell up with pride as he took a deep inhale. She had made him so proud today. Manny could doubt her prowess in hand-to-hand, but he knew his little girl had gotten that last kill. As he thought of how proud she made him, other thoughts entered his head. "She's just a girl... Maybe so, but I've seen plenty of tough tricks at the Strip..." Danley muttered out loud. As the lecture Andy gave started to sink deeper in, Danley was suddenly aware of a rasping sound as Elise's body tensed up, soft cries leaving her throat as her current dosage of Med-X wore off. Loud moans of pain turned to shrieks of agony as Elise's body moved, as if trying to find someway to alleviate the pain in her eye and body. Doc Straus rushed over quickly with a new syringe full of the popular painkiller, which was quickly jabbed into Elise's body and emptied there, bringing an almost instant soothing effect to the girl.

As Danley watched his daughter's body go from tensed in pain and agony to lax from a medically induced, nearly comatose state, he felt not pride, but shame. How could he have done this to his little girl, the last thing he had to remember Anya by? Sure, these little tests of skill and her ability to survive were always adding years to her life, but what if she had failed just one of those? He'd never allowed her to have room for failure. If she had failed... If she had failed, she'd be dead. And what would she have then? The life he was trying to give her would've been ultimately taken by his own hands.

That's when he decided to stop shaping his daughter into his successor as an NCR Ranger. She was too young to understand what being a ranger truly meant. He could easilly change her, or at least, influence her to be a courier instead. There couldn't be much danger in package delivery, right?

_Oh Daddy, if only you were right..._

Were the last thoughts in Elise's head, before they were replaced effectively by a nine-millimeter bullet seven years later.


	2. The Ghost Town Gunfight

_Okay, with this chapter, I plan to get the ball rolling, as they say. As much as I dislike the idea of chronicling the tale of New Vegas, if I keep this up, that is unfortunately going to be what the first part of Elise's story is. I know, I know! I want to get to the more original stuff fast too! But weaving a tale takes time, and despite my own disappointment with my own prologue, I guess it's as that one great writer says; "A true writer should never be satisfied with his own work."_

_October 19, 2281  
__Goodsprings, Doc Mitchell's House  
__0700 Hours, Pacific Standard Time_

Doc Mitch observed the young woman whose life he had saved through some very miraculous brain surgery. How he'd done it, he'd not a clue, but he managed to save everything of importance inside the woman's head. Naturally, the girl was stripped down, Mitch having to get a full assessment of any possible injuries in order to work as effectively as possible.

But was she a _mess_!

She had the beautiful body of a woman at age twenty-one, maybe older, maybe younger, but her body wore the scars of someone who frequented the wastes. Two scars in particular stuck out to him. Her face, a wondrous portrait of fair-skinned beauty, was marred by a useless eye, though covered by a patch, the fact there was a patch and a long scar down her cheek and through her eyebrow proved the loss. The other scar was large and long, the mark of a blade having claimed the region between her breasts and, if she hadn't been lucky, he guessed would have gutted her as well.

It seemed a shame to destroy the beauty of such a woman, and now, someone else had left their mark on the girl, a bullet-hole above her left eye would add to the marks of attempted destruction.

Then, the body stirred. Immediately, Doc Mitch sat bolt upright as his patient slowly came alive, her eyes wandering about confusedly.

As Elise grew aware of her unfamiliar surroundings and more importantly, her completely exposed and vulnerable state, she jerked about, looking for something to defend herself with. Her hand heading for a scalpel as she tried to sit up, she felt a wave of dizziness and weakness hit her, and two unfamiliar, though comforting hands on her shoulders, gently pushing her back down.

"Easy now girl, I ain't done nothin' to ya but save yer life. Now, I hope you don't mind, but I had to go pokin' around in yer noggin to dig out all the little pieces of lead." Doc Mitch said as he let go of the woman. "Now then, you don't have to sit up, but there's a few things I need to go over with ya. I pride myself on my needlework, but you should tell me if I left anything out..." Mitch said, handing Elise a mirror-like device.

As she observed her face, her one red eye (Unnaturally colored through the wasteland's many useful medical robots) darting around in its socket as it drank in her own pale visage. The simple, sharp, features of a woman who'd seen more than most men of her time were all intact, and she was satisfied. Her hair was still of decent length and still swept over her dead eye, so she really couldn't be happier with Mitch's work. After a series of exams, Elise was given an old pip-boy from one of those vaults she'd heard about, along with a vault suit, her old pistol, and the name of a woman, Sunny Smiles, and, the final, most important piece of info, where to begin her search.

The Mojave Express in Primm. Once there, she could ask about the delivery she was supposed to make, and hopefully find out more about that man who had shot her. A checkered suit was all she really could remember about him, but he was going to **DIE**.

However, at this moment, she heard something rolling up towards her, and as she turned to look to the source of the noise, she could see another one of RobCo's amazing creations rolling towards her. It was on one large wheel, and the chassis was painted blue, and it had shoulders much too large to simply be a design choice. There had to be something there. And last, she noticed a screen in the center of mass, a screen that showed the smiling face of a cowboy. As if that wasn't stupid enough, the damn thing began talking with the worst western accent ever.

"Howdy pardner! Might I say yer lookin' fit as a fiddle!" The robot said happily, the Cowboy face that was displayed seeming more imbecilic than anything Elise had ever looked upon.

"Leave me alone robot." Was all Elise said as she began walking away, not interested at all in the stupid robot. She had no time for an automated creation that would never be able to truly imitate life.

"Well hold on now pardner! Ain'tcha interested in the feller who saved ya life?" The robot exclaimed.

This triggered something in Elise, and as she turned around, her nine-millimeter was pulled free, leveled directly at the robot's screen. "If you know ANYTHING, spit it out, right. Fucking. Now." She ordered, her eyes narrowing at the robot as she kept the gun trained on it.

"Ha! Hate to tell ya pardner, but you'd be dead before that flimsy caliber would even dent me. But in all honesty, I never planned to fight ya in the first place dah'lin. Now, what can Ol' Vic do for you?" Victor said cheerily.

Elise sighed and holstered her pistol. "Alright Vic, my name is Elise, and honestly, there's nothing I really need from you right now, so if you wouldn't mind, pardner..." She said, seeing if there was anything to appeal to by using some of the robot's centuries old slang when communicating with it.

"Oh alright, I can tell when I'm not needed, but if you ever need anything lil' lady, I'll be happy to help." The robot said as happily as he had been when the conversation started, and began to roll away.

Now that the distraction was out of her way, Elise looked from her current position right outside Mitchell's house. Elise was unsurprised that his house was much larger than others and that it was in what she considered a very comfortable place. From this spot, she could get a good view of the whole town if she ever needed. Walking from Mitchell's house, down the street that separated the buildings of the town, Elise had the feeling she was in one of those western holos, especially with the local bar being a saloon and not a tavern or pub.

As she walked in, however, her senses were bombarded by the same typical atmosphere. The smell of cigarette smoke mixed with stale booze, the sound of a jukebox playing old tunes from before the war, and of course, there was at least one typical ass who was choosing to have an altercation with not just anyone, but the proprietor of the establishment.

"We'll find him eventually, so you may as well tell us now!" The gruff voice demanded.

"Just leave Cobb, no one's interested in your idle threats. I know for a fact anyone here would help me if you actually tried something." The owner, Trudy replied tiredly, wiping out a mug with an old rag.

"She's right you know." Elise said, her pistol up immediately. She recognized the stolen security uniform the dark man called Cobb wore. NCRCF, New California Republic Correctional Facility. He was a criminal to her nation, and had obviously killed the good officer the uniform belonged to. As her nine pressed against the back of his head, Cobb clammed up real quick. "Now come on, why don't we go have a nice talk outside?" Elise said, the slender eyebrow over her good eye raising, and her mouth's left corner tugging into a smirk.

After they left, the bar's patrons soon heard the distinct sound of a nine-millimeter firing, and silence. When Elise waked back into the bar, it was with Cobb's 357 revolver on her left hip.

"I hope you did the right thing killing Cobb, because if his friends come and find out he's dead, we're all screwed." Trudy said with a sigh. "Regardless, thanks for ending at least one headache. Anything you want in particular stranger? On the house." She said, smiling at the newest visitor.

"Sure. I'll take a Nuka-Cola if you have one. If not, Sunset Sarsaparilla." Elise said, and after receiving a bottle of dark fluid which bore the Nuka-Cola banner, she smiled and popped the cap, taking the object that was valued in these parts more than the NCR Dollar, and took a few swigs. As she indulged, she listened to gossip in the bar and was eventually approached by a woman with a dog at her side.

"Hi, I'm Sunny. Mitch mentioned you'd be stopping by. Not often someone wakes up from a shot to the head..." She said, her voice friendly enough, as she sat on the bar-stool next to Elise, getting a bottle of sarsaparilla for herself.

"Yeah, even with the good doctors like Mitch, not many people manage to survive a bullet in the brain. So, you got anything that could help me? That bastard in the checkered suit stole my father's Sequoia and everything... All I had left was the nine I always keep stashed away where no-one can really find it." Elise lamented, regretting the fact she'd lost the only heirloom her father could really leave her.

"Well, if you need to get used to shooting a gun again, I've got a few bottles set up out back, and a Varmint Rifle if you want it." Sunny offered.

"Well, when your dad was an NCR Ranger, I don't think even a bullet in the head dulls your talent with a gun, so I'll pass on the shooting range. But a rifle would be nice. Thanks, I guess." Elise said, accepting the rifle.

"Hey, don't worry about it, I've got a few of these. This one's in decent condition, but the bolt's just a little bit rusted, so you'll have to put some oomph into it." Sunny said as she took her rifle off her back, demonstrating the bolt's sticking due to rust before handing it completely over to Elise. "So, can I ask you what your name is, stranger?" Sunny requested.

"Elise. And honestly, I don't feel right just taking this. There's got to be something I can do." Elise said as Sunny gave her a few 5.56 rounds for the rifle.

"Well, there's two problems in Goodsprings right now. I'll let you take your pick. We've got geckos, and we've got Gangers. If you can help with either one of those, you can consider your debt with me settled, as well as accept any rewards the rest of the town gives you." Sunny suggested.

"Fucking Powder Gangers." Elise muttered with distaste, her face looking as if the cola she'd just sipped had gone bad.

"I guess you want to get rid of the convicts. Won't blame you there, at least someone in the NCR takes care of their nation's trash." Sunny grumbled, Elise overlooking the insult to her country in lieu of all the help the townspeople were giving. "If you wanna deal with them, talk with Ringo in the gas station and let him know you're willing to help. You might also try Trudy, she's got a lot of sway with everyone else here, Pete might have some explosives, Mitch should willingly part with a few stimpacks, and last, if you've got a silver-tongue or plenty of caps, you could see if Chet's willing to give us some armor. Do that, and we should be more than prepared when those fucks come into town." Sunny suggested, draining what was left of her sarsaparilla. "I'll be on the lookout. When they figure out Cobb's missing, they'll probably start looking for him." Sunny said before going outside.

Elise lifted her hand to get Trudy's attention. "I'm planning to help with those powder gangers. You interested?" She asked as she took another swig of her cola.

"You better have a good plan, otherwise, no dice." Trudy said simply, putting it right out in the open that a defensive with no real strategy would lose her support.

"Well, there's actually quite a few good spots to stage an ambush, so if you set the townspeople up in the right spots... Maybe here, here, and here..." Elise said, pointing to spots on her pip-boy's map of the town. "They should be dead before they know what hits them." Elise said simply.

"You know, that's not a bad idea. I'll have everything ready when the Gangers come around. Go see about everyone else." Trudy said, satisfied with the ambush avenue of attack.

Not long after, Elise had failed to persuade Pete or Chet, but had stims for everyone and her own deadly aim. Elise was never really a big people-person anyway. After seeing who would help, Elise finally headed up to the gas station to meet this Ringo. Immediately after opening the door, there was a pistol in Elise's face and a series of questions about who she was and what she wanted.

"My name's Elise, and I'm on your side, now relax. I want to help you with your Poowder Ganger problem." Elise answered, to which Ringo lowered his pistol.

"Good, sorry, but if you know about the Gangers, then you can probably understand why I'm twitchy. Let's start over with a friendly game of Caravan. Trust me, I'm no good so I'm practically giving you money." Ringo offered.

He was no liar.

In a matter of minutes, Elise had bested Ringo in not one, but two games of Caravan, and had made some easy pocket-change off him. "Well, that was fun, but I honestly can't let you clean me out. The Crimson Caravan would have my head if I lost all their funding gambling. Let's see if Sunny's spotted anything." He suggested. As they walked out, Sunny ran up to them and told them that the gang was on their way.

As Ringo left to join the rest of the group, Elise went back to Doc Mitchell's house, staying right outside his doorstep and hiding behind the small barrier the decorative porch railing provided. As the Gangers wandered into view, Elise peered down the sight of her new Varmint Rifle, barely breathing as she managed to line up a spec of a head in her sights. As soon as she was certain his head would splatter, she exhaled slowly, held her breath, and squeezed the trigger. The bullet flew true, and soon, the head was oozing blood from the front and back, the Ganger's body falling to the ground.

As soon as he dropped, the rest of the town sprang the trap, popping up from cover and taking shots at the remaining Gangers, Elise occasionally ending someone with her rifle. The exchange couldn't have lasted more than five minutes before the whole gang was dead.

Hitting the magazine release, it dropped to the ground before another clip was rammed home. Elise slung the rifle over her shoulder and watched as Ringo started running towards her. "Hey, thanks. Here's a little something for your trouble." He said, handing her a sack of caps.

"I thought you said something about being light on money?" Elise gave a small laugh, accepting the pouch.

"Well, they're actually Crimson Caravan funds, but you earned it after what you've done for me and this town. Thanks, Elise. If you stop by the Crimson Caravan Headquarters, I might have a little more for ya." He said, giving a grin and a wink, though he only meant it as a joke.

"I'll keep that in mind Ringo, but I figure we both have places to be, so I'll see you around." Elise said, and after bedding up at Doc Mitchell's for one more night, began the short walk to Primm, where her quest for revenge would begin proper.


	3. Primm and Proper Once Again

_Grazie for the favorites! Especially the ones who made me a favorite author despite only putting out one story! This is why I do it~ Because honestly, if this was all for myself, I'd just write it all in my spare time and never put it up. A writer's duty is to his demographic, and I plan to proudly carry out that duty, as is evidenced by my current "Chapter a Day" mentality. Please, keep reading, and don't be afraid to berate me, I know my writing needs work. If I ever hope to be a big-name author, I'll need all the critique I can get!_

_October 20, 2281  
__Primm's NCR-held Checkpoint  
__1300 Hours, Pacific Standard Time_

"Woah, hold up! This area's off-limits!" The NCR Trooper holding his Service Rifle at rest said, a gloved hand coming up to stop Elise as she walked.

"Relax, soldier. What's the big deal? I'm a big girl and can take care of myself." Elise said tiredly, obviously not interested in wasting time at a security checkpoint.

"We've got a bunch of escaped convicts up ahead ma'am, the whole town's holed up in the Vikki and Vance. You don't really want to get mixed up with a gang do you?" The trooper asked.

"Already did yesterday. Helped Goodsprings deal with some of our refuse. Mind telling me what the hell happened to our country soldier?" Elise asked with a look of annoyance on her face. Last she had paid attention to the NCR, they had been a great force that no one wanted to mess with.

"Too many of our forces are up at the Dam. General Lee Oliver's orders are stupid, but I can't blame him for wanting to hold one of our most valuable resources." The Trooper answered.

"Look, I'm going in, if you want to stop me, you can, but someone in there knows something about an order that got me this." Elise said, pulling back her black hair to show the bullet-hole over her patched eye, to which the troop's response was gaping awe. "But good luck trooper. Maybe I'll see you again sometime." Elise said as she walked by him, the 357 she'd taken from Cobb in hand as she walked into the actual town of Primm, ignoring the camp of her homeland's troopers.

It wasn't long before a bullet whizzed past her and she dove for cover, long hair whipping in the wind. Ramming her shoulder against a concrete barricade on the NCR side of the bridge, she popped up, taking aim with her revolver, only to notice a series of frag mines on the bridge, which a convict sharpshooter immediately took aim at. Luckily, Elise had ducked back into cover, unluckily, there was a stick of dynamite almost directly above her head, and dropping fast. Immediately, Elise dove from her cover, sliding and scraping against the wood and concrete that made up the bridge into town. As soon as she stopped moving, she could see one of the convicts and shot from her grounded position, firing three shots as quickly as she could pull the trigger and cock the hammer back. The three rounds ripped into the man's chest, blood splattering his outfit, staining it red as he fell to the ground.

Of course, this drew the attention of more convicts, and it wasn't long before Elise was hiding behind a tin shack to avoid catching lead. Taking the opportunity to reload, she fished out three 357 rounds and flipped open the panel, expelling and replacing the three spent casings before popping out from her cover.

However, as she left her cover, she heard her Pip-Boy _say_ something. "Pip-Boy automated **V.A.T.S.** Program Initiated. Stimulating adrenal response."

As the Pip-Boy was speaking, Elise felt her body accelerate as everything seemed to slow. She could see three immediate threats, and her hands were steadier than she could ever imagine as she aimed the revolver, firing from the hip like a cow-girl, cocking the hammer with her left hand as her right triggered a flurry of three rounds that each found a home in a separate man's head.

With the three most immediate threats gone, Elise decided keeping quiet would be the best thing she could do in this town. Putting her revolver in its holster, she opted for her Varmint Rifle (For which she had bought a suppressor before leaving Goodsprings. Ringo's reward and Chet's appreciative discount had helped ease the bill) and rounded the corner of the Vikki and Vance Casino to spy two more convicts walking about outside. Elise aimed her rifle carefully, but as soon as she pulled the trigger, the bastard changed direction and the opportunity was ruined. Both men turned their guns on her and she felt a cruel nine-millimeter bullet bite into her right shin. Dropping to the ground, she gave a cry of pain.

"Fuckin' sweet! She's hurt but still alive, let's see if we can keep it that way! When's the last time boss had a girl like that? We bring this girl to him, he's sure to give us a reward!" Elise heard one say as she tried to clear her head of the pain in her leg. Taking a deep breath, she tried to focus, and held her rifle up in her left hand, her right finding the nine-millimeter pistol at her side. As soon as the pair rounded the side, Elise had the pistol ready and emptied the entire clip into both of them, roughly expending half on each.

"If you fuckers think I'm going to be fucked just so you get a reward, you're sadly... **SADLY** mistaken!" Elise said as she reloaded and emptied her clip once more into the nearest one, reducing his groin to a bloody mess. She knew it was a foolish waste of ammo, a foolish display of emotion, but she was **NOT** to be anyone's toy.

Managing to get to her feet again, she stuck to the side of the casino, limping into the entrance as swiftly as she could. As soon as she was in, she dropped to the ground. "Please... Please tell me that fucking SOMEONE here knows how to get a bullet out of a leg!" Elise shouted, drawing the attention of every refugee.

Almost as soon as she said this, a dark, old man came up to her with a doctor's bag in hand. "I'm Johnson Nash. I run the Mojave Express, but I do some trade on the side. I figure I'll give you one of these free since you obviously got that helping us a little bit. Now just hold still." Nash said, and soon, he was throwing away a blood-covered chunk of lead and wrapping up Elise's leg before popping a stim into the wounded appendage.

After only an hour or so, Elise was walking again, albeit a somewhat pained stride. In this hour, Nash had explained how the Deputy, some poor sap named Beagle, had been kidnapped, and the Sheriff murdered. Apparently, Beagle had good information on the bastard in the checkered suit, so it was now in Elise's best interest to rescue the imbecile. Turned out he was being held in the Bison Steve Hotel.

"And what can I expect of the convict resistance in that place?" Elise asked, testing her still recovering leg.

"A whole lot. They pretty much holed up there." Nash answered, the expression on his old wrinkled face grim.

"If you don't hear back from me today, find someone else to save your deputy." Elise said, her voice now showing weariness with the way this damned world had to be. Everyone wants something for nothing, but more often than not, you give something and get nothing.

Roughly an hour later, Elise had snuck past or killed most of the convicts in her way to get to Deputy Beagle, but right as she was cutting his bonds, she heard the distinct sound of an incinerator lobbing its fiery death in her direction. It was either let Beagle die, or die with him. The wasteland's law was cruel, but in a way, fair. Beagle obviously deserved to be dead if he had been caught in the first place. As she dove away from Beagle, she felt the heat erupt behind her as Beagle exploded into a screaming fireball. The smell of burning hair, flesh, and cloth made Elise sick to her stomach, but she couldn't afford to stop. Immediately, she went through the side hall she'd used to sneak past the incinerator wielding leader of the convicts and as soon as she was on his flank, loaded a clip of armor-piercing rounds she had found on one of his men into her nine-millimeter. As she aimed at the tank on his back, she couldn't help but grin. He and his men had fallen into a trap, being packed so tightly in that small space when she fired would cause a fiery explosion that would kill the whole group.

_BANG!_

The heat from the blast could be felt all the way at the back of the lobby where the shot had been fired. Bodies were nothing but charred skin over sticky red meat which held no pulse. With the threat gone, Elise took a moment to rest. She'd expected a lot, but not a goddamn incinerator! And Beagle was dead, but that was no matter. She'd talked him into revealing what information he had with a few seductive lines, after all, when a woman was involved, men were very easily manipulated.

Apparently the fucker had gone south through Nipton then north to Elise's childhood home of Novac. But that could probably wait just a little bit. Because of Elise's foolish decision, Primm had no law enforcement at all. At the least, Elise could see about putting the town under NCR jurisdiction.

After leaving the Bison Steve, Elise found her way back to the NCR encampment and walked into the tent of the CO.

Immediately, Hayes' hand went up in a salute. "Lieutenant Hayes, NCR Army, Fifth Battalion, First Company. How can I help you Ma'am?" Hayes said, his hand staying up in a salute.

This made Elise a little suspicious. "Why the big, showy, military formality?" She asked.

"I served with your father. Damn good man. But he never did stop showing us that locket with your picture and saying how proud you made him. Still a damn good Ranger. Can I please be at ease now?" Hayes requested, to which Elise gave a proper salute, allowing him to return to a more comfortable stance. "So then, Elise, what can I help you with?"

"Well, I slipped up and the town's deputy, Beagle, wound up charcoaled. So I was thinking our good nation could help them out. So what's taking you so long to go in?" Elise asked, finding her way to a table in the tent and settling herself comfortably, one leg crossing over the other and her hands resting in her lap.

"Well, we don't have enough men." Hayes said as he joined her at the table. "And the only man who can authorize more troops to this town is Major Knight at the Mojave Outpost Southwest of here. It's one hell of a hike, so you might want to rest up a bit before you go. Hell, we've got a few open bunks, but nothing private. Just pick a bed and no one will bug you." Hayes offered.

"Nothing private? Ah wel, it'll have to do." Elise said before grabbing a bunk, unzipping her vault suit, tying the sleeves around her waist, and going to sleep on a hard mattress.

* * *

When she woke up, the sun was down, and what she could read on her Pip-Boy said it was around 0200 hours. As she sat up, she saw the Lieutenant approaching her. "Oh, hey Hayes... What is it?" She yawned tiredly. The man was holding something as he walked up, and he dropped it onto the woman's lap.

"I thought you'd be up about now, so I figured I'd do something nice since you're getting our nation more territory. What's in your lap is a set of our Mantle Armor, and it's only slightly worn, so it can still take a few hits. And this..." Hayes said, pulling out a large pistol, pushing a clip into it and pulling the slide. "Is the N99 ten-millimeter pistol. A very reliable weapon. And this is some ammo." Hayes said, giving the gun and a few clips over to Elise. "Also, you might try a backpack." He suggested, placing one by her bed. The label on the light bag could clearly read: Black Wolf.

"Hmph... Is it my birthday or something?" Elise asked with a smile. Immediately, disregarding Hayes or any other prying eyes, she took off her boots and slipped out of the vault suit, her lower-body completely nude and bare for anyone to see, a tank-top being the only protection to her upper-body. A few men averted their eyes, others stared and blushed, but most housed amorous thoughts of lust within their mind. Soon, the basic, tan fatigues of the NCR's military uniform were on Elise's body, the breastplate soon being slid over her head. Lastly, she pulled the camouflaged mantle over her left shoulder and slipped into her boots, lacing them up good and tight. Next, she put her two pistol holsters on and slipped her backpack onto her shoulders, opting to put the 357 into it. Finally, she slung the rifle she had over her right shoulder, slipping the nine and ten-millimeter pistols into the left and right holster respectively. "Thanks though, honestly, I get the feeling that before this is all over, something with a little more punch will be very helpful. Thanks." Elise said, giving the Lieutenant a grateful hug and a kiss on his cheek.

As she left, Elise couldn't help but grin as she heard many of Hayes' subordinates begin hooting and making cat-calls. No doubt they'd start telling stories about him being a softy for girls, no matter how tough they looked. As Elise began her journey to the Outpost, she sighed. In the distance, she could see two large statues, but they were a long distance away.

* * *

A few hours of hiking and many fights and retreats from packs of Radscorpions finally brought Elise to the Outpost, but when she entered the Administrative Building, she wound up being dragged into a long economics argument with Knight. An argument she eventually won, getting Hayes' boys their support and the NCR more land, but getting Elise a major headache. A nap and a return trip later, and Elise was telling Hayes that he was clear to move in on Primm and begin administering justice. Through the power of the NCR, Primm would know safety again.

_Woooo! Chapter two complete! If anyone here likes Beagle, sorry, but I thought he was a prick and typically executed him with a pistol round to the back of the head and just stole his journal. Also, I'd like to take this opportunity to mention that Black Wolf backpacks does not belong to me either. Once more people, only not so hintingly, I say, REVIEW AND YE SHALL RECEIVE MORE!_


	4. Old Friends, Older Enemies

_Are you ready kids? This is going to be a big chapter, chronicling the taking of the Nevada Highway Patrol Station for a night of rest, the ruins of Nipton, and, end with a meeting with a man who will show a side we haven't seen(But will hopefully be a believable display)!_

_October 22, 2281  
__Nevada Highway Patrol Station  
__1900 Hours, Pacific Standard Time_

Elise walked slowly and carefully toward the old police station, her rifle up and at the ready. She was tired, and half-frozen, the desert's radiant heat all but lost almost immediately when the sun went down. She needed a place to rest. All the hell she'd been catching from the local wasteland fauna was taking its toll on her travels, but, she knew that any safe building alone out in the desert would invariably be in use. Not only that, but even at a distance, her sharp eye told her that the walls of the pale building were coated in graffiti, a typical mark of a Raider Tribe or Clan.

As she drew closer, Elise could see two silhouettes in the darkness. She inched a little closer, being as careful as she could to remain undetected. Eventually, she was within earshot and could hear bits of conversation.

"Jackals... Back on top... Good old days..." Was all she could hear, but it was enough to know that she was dealing with the remnants of the once great Jackal Clan. Since, unlike the Great Kahns, the Jackals were more interested in shooting first and talking later, Elise shoulder her rifle. She practiced the motion between the two patrolling Raiders, simulating the bolt's action between shots. Finally, she released all her breath and held, lungs empty, muscles steady, and took the first shot, her hand moving swiftly to expel spent brass, then took the second shot. Both enemies slumped to the ground, a chunk of lead in their chests.

Slinging her rifle back over her shoulder, Elise searched the two bodies, taking their weapons and ammo, as well as a good two-hundred NCR dollars off of them. With a new ten-millimeter off one raider and a nine off the other, she decided to stow the nines and put both tens into her hip-holsters. Further searching produced a Radaway and a bottle of dirty water. Elise drained the water immediately and stashed the Radaway in her pack.

With the spoils of a victory, Elise now believed the area outside the patrol station to be clear, and, pistol drawn, made a low, huddled-over sprint for the wall beside the entrance, putting her back to it. As she was just about to open the door, she heard footsteps, but not clear, crisp ones. The steps crunched as if on dirt, sand, and gravel. Elise turned, spotting a silhouette out the corner of her eye, and instinctively dropped, feeling bits of concrete shower her head as she took a shot at the Jackal, catching the woman in the hand, knocking her assailant's ten-millimeter out of her hand, and effectively removing a few fingers. But this wasn't enough to stop a crazed Jackal, especially one who had lost part of her pack. The woman charged Elise, tackling her to the ground, causing the ten-millimeter in Elise's hand to drop as well. As the raider moved to straddle Elise, starting to rain unrelenting blows onto her face, she remained unaware of the slow, almost imperceptible movement of Elise's hand to her side, finding the hilt of a combat knife that was strapped to her thigh. As soon as it was free, Elise waited for the Raider to lift her hand after delivering another strike, and lunged forward, jamming the knife into her adversary's throat, blood spurting as the jugular and carotid were punctured and ripped open, pouring blood into her enemy's now opened throat. There was a horrific gurgle and blood poured everywhere on the women as Elise pushed the weakening raider off her body and, almost unfeeling, grabbed her head and gave a swift jerk, letting the satisfying crunch of breaking bone and severing spinal cord signal the end of her foe.

As Elise got up, she felt her now swelling face and became aware of a trickle of blood seeping into her eye. "Dammit... Fucking raiders..." She grumbled, frustrated that her good-looks were suffering more and more due to the rigors of the wastes. Her body was already marked by numerous encounters, but her face? She already had three scars and didn't want _any_ more.

But, that was another law of the Wasteland. Good-looks don't last long. Taking a stimpack from her pack, she jabbed it into the area right behind her jaw, and almost instantly felt it start working, the swelling in her face going down dramatically. For such superficial wounds, stimpacks worked so amazingly fast. Sitting outside for a few seconds, she let her face slowly knit together what nicks she had received, and after feeling the relief of healed flesh, hunted around for the two ten-millimeters that had been dropped by her and her assailant. Stowing one and holstering the other, she walked towards her dead enemy and pulled the combat knife from her throat, wiping it on her leg, leaving two broad streaks of blood on the NCR uniform before sheathing the blade. Patting down the Jackal, she soon found a pack of Radaway and kept it, before unholstering both her ten-millimeters and getting ready to enter the station.

The moment the door swung open, there were shouts, and an automated voice that informed Elise of her V.A.T.S. activation. Her adrenaline surged, and soon, both pistols were lined up on the heads of two female Jackals, and their heads exploded as a ten-millimeter bullet erupted their cranial cavities, painting the walls behind them scarlet. Elise saw one holding a melee weapon and frowned. She had no use for that, but upon searching the woman, found a few caps and purified water, but the other enemy had another ten-millimeter, along with more water.

However, as Elise looked at her Pip-Boy, she noticed numerous foe ticks on the compass, and turned to a door she suspected led to the holding cells. Opening the door, she was surprised to find a group of mantid nymphs feeding on the dead body of a man who appeared to be a prospector. Holstering one pistol, Elise took the time for some relaxed target practice before opening the cell. A quick search of the prospector found Elise something she thanked whatever was out there for. A beautiful ten-millimeter, Heckler and Koch Maschinenpistole Nine. The only thing more beautiful would have been to find an MP5. Other wastelanders could complain all they wanted about automatic weaponry wasting ammo, but if that was the case, why did so many people absolutely love the spray and pray method?

Satisfied with her surroundings, and the beautiful sub-machine gun it brought her, Elise decided she'd definitely stay here for a few hours. Slipping off her backpack, she lowered it gently to the ground, not wanting to damage its contents anymore than they may have been, then moved over to a cot, brushing a few shards of mantis exoskeleton to the floor before sitting down. She opened up her backpack and fished out the different weapons, leaving the nines where they were. Disassembling her ten-millimeters, she swapped parts between them until the two she used were in near pristine condition, and reassembled the other two with the damaged parts. Was it honest? No. Would it bring her profit? Yes. The law of the waste was harsh indeed, and she knew very well that one day, what she was doing to whatever sap would buy the pistols, the same would probably happen to her. But it was best not to dwell on cheating your fellow man out of a few caps. People were naturally corrupt and wicked things, so Elise thought nothing of it if she acted like a human.

The cot's green mattress squeaked as Elise went to stand, yawning as she stretched, her rifle putting an odd weight on her outstretched back. So, she undid the strap holding it over her shoulder and lowered it to the floor beside her backpack, then undid the belt that held her pistol holsters, and laid it over her rifle, her two ten-millimeters joining the holsters on the ground. Next, she stripped off her mantle, and her hands went to the straps that hugged the breastplate to her chest, and let them go slack, releasing what held them in place. She slid the piece of armor over her head and finally realized there was crimson all over it. Looking down at her uniform, she was also made aware of blood on the cloth. Not near as much, but any blood would cause people to think wrong of how she may have acquired the outfit. Fishing the old vault suit out of her pack, she found her combat knife and cut it into rags, and stripped herself of all clothing soon after, then proceeded to the last door she had not opened. Judging by the size of the station, there was only one place this door could lead to, and when she opened it, her assumption was proven correct.

Elise immediately walked to the sink, and, looking in the mirror, saw a woman whose face was covered in blood, only to realize it was herself. Giving a sigh, she wet one of the rags with warm water and began wiping at her face, cleaning the caked-on blood and grime from her visage, afterward, she found a bar of soap on the sink and considered herself very fortunate to have a chance to cat-bathe. Picking up the soap, she rubbed it into her rag as best she could, and gave herself a prompt wipe-down, then wringing the rag out, proceeded with what one could call the rinse-phase of a cat-bath. Afterward, she soaked a new rag and began cleaning her NCR breastplate with it. After cleaning as much as she could from the breastplate, she proceeded to scrub at the cloth uniform she would wear under it. The cloth was salvageable, but it would be stained with blood, unfortunately, but for the most part, where it had stained would be hidden by her breastplate and mantle.

After cleaning her uniform, Elise stepped out of the bathroom, leaving her clothing to dry, and undid the top of her pack, letting loose the tightly rolled sleeping bag atop it. She spread it over the bright green cot and slipped into it, finding sleep in the space of only a few minutes.

* * *

Elise heard her Pip-Boy's radio go off as a loud alarm, blaring "Ain't That a Kick in the Head" right next to her ear, thanks to her right arm being over her left as a pillow. She immediately rolled and twisted and slammed to the hard ground of the station. The back of her head thwacked the floor, and she let out a cry. "Ow! Motherfucker! Stupid goddamn..." Her grumblings were naturally laced with more expletives than one would care to tell as she pummeled each button of her Pip-Boy until it finally stopped playing the song. Elise glared angrily at the device on her wrist. "This is the last time I use you to wake up..." She muttered under her breath. Stifling a yawn as she sat up on the floor, Elise shrugged the sleeping bag down her body, pulling her long, thin legs from its depths.

Standing up, each step Elise took took far longer than it should have, as she stretched her appendages to their entirety, her toes spreading wide and reaching out into the air before making contact with the floor, every single joint in her leg popping as she stretched and stepped. After waking up, she walked into the bathroom and dressed herself, the NCR uniform feeling stiff, but wearable and comfortable. She slipped on and fastened her breastplate, then brought the mantle over her shoulder, checking herself in the mirror. The uniform suited her, she had to admit, but she wondered if she'd look better in Ranger patrol armor or with a First Recon Beret perched atop her head. She could imagine it now, fixing her hair back into a braided up bun and that glorious red beret that signaled to everyone "I am a bad-ass motherfucker who is the: "Last Thing You'll Never See" if you piss me off." It was enough to make her give a small, almost schoolgirl giggle. Sure, she was a woman most people didn't want to cross, a beautiful femme fatale of the wastes, but as long as she was in private, she was entitled to her moments, wasn't she?

Her once bad mood now considerably better, Elise walked out of the bathroom and back into the cells, slinging her rifle back over her right shoulder, and strapping her new MP9 against her chest so she could access it, since her pack would be on her back. Next, she put on her belt, and slid her two ten-millimeter pistols into their homes. Finally, before putting her pack on, she fished out a can of Cram she had bought in Primm and slipped a bottle of pure water into her pocket. As she left the building, she was using the cut off top of the Cram can as a shovel to consume the fatty meat product, dropping it in the desert and continuing her walk into Nipton as soon as she was done.

She was casually sipping her bottled water as she became aware of the smell of smoke, and with it, the scent of burnt flesh and hair. Elise's nostrils flared as she continued drinking, reaching a forest of crucifixions. It was horrifying, barely living men hung from crosses, those of which without shirts were indicative of the whole group having starved and been dehydrated. Elise believed in a law that the wasteland had, but this was not it. Sure the victims were mostly Powder Gangers, but even if they were convicts, Elise thought they deserved a fair trial, and a punishment that wasn't so cruel and unusual.

As she reached a large building, which she assumed to be City Hall, a group of Legionnaires sallied out to meet her. She dropped her bottle of water, letting what was left be wasted on useless grains of sand as she brought her rifle up immediately, aiming at the most important person she could see.

He was, as far as the dog helmet said, a Vexillarius. But the foolish open face design of the helmet provided a glaring weakness Elise was all too happy to exploit. The first, quiet cough of her suppressed rifle signaled the liberation of his brain from his head. However, it also signalled the charge of now uncoordinated legionnaires.

_Cut off the head and the body will die._

Elise thought as she started backpedaling, eliminating each man with swift efficiency. Soon, there was nothing but a trail of dead Legionnaires leading right back to Elise, rifle smoking as she assessed the situation. Daddy would have been proud, but angry. Elise had let instinct take over and immediately confronted a larger force that could have had sharpshooters stationed all over the town. And she not only recklessly engaged them, but did so at close range, where everyone could see her. He would have commended a good sniper attack, but she was where they could see her. But the bright side was that she had survived and, while examining the bodies, discovered one in particular, the Vexillarius, was the mighty and feared Vulpes Inculta. Not just a Vexillari, but also a Frumentari, one of Caesar's elite spies. With Vulpes dead, the NCR would be at less risk of having vital information revealed to their enemy.

Her country owed her a major debt of gratitude. One that she hoped would take the form of armed service training. Now that Nipton was empty aside from the poor crucified fucks, Elise had to decide if Powder Gangers really deserved mercy. Walking through the town, a ten-millimeter in hand, Elise had decided no one really deserved that nightmare and decided she should speed them on their way.

* * *

Before getting back on her way to Novac, Elise decided she'd make a quick run to the Mojave Outpost, since the sniper, Ghost, had been concerned about Nipton's fate last time Elise had been at the outpost. Since Elise was familiar with most nesting and hunting zones for the local fauna and knew enough of what spots were Raider territory, she was able to shorten what had first been a long trip to the Outpost, and after talking with Ghost, giving her the bad news, headed into the barracks and bar.

After all that, she needed a drink. When she drained three glasses of whiskey consecutively, she earned the attention of a woman who looked like she belonged in a western. She wore a wide-brimmed cowboy hat, a pink and white plaid shirt, jeans, and a brown leather jacket, making her look so much like she belonged out on the trail with a "big iron" on her hip. Not only that, but boy did she speak country too. "Jesus girl, take it easy. I'm the one who's supposed to be downing that much whiskey that damned fast!" She said with a laugh.

"I've had a rough time recently. I think I'm entitled to a drink. Name's Elise." Elise responded, now taking her time with her fourth glass of whiskey. This woman was interesting.

"Shit, you mean like the old Ranger leader Elise? Well honey, you ain't the only one havin' a rough time of it. I'd love to get out of here, but I can't. Our proud country's damn bureaucracy is causing problems again. Don't get me wrong, I love the NCR, but it has its own problems like everyone else. Just less." The cowgirl said. "Oh, by the way, I'm Rose of Sharon Cassidy, of course, folks just call me Cass. I think you should do the same." Cass added, hinting that she didn't like her full name being used.

"Well, you could try up and walking out. I wouldn't mind having some company." Elise suggested.

"Look, that's awful nice of ya, but I'm stuck at this outpost because of my caravan papers. Try working with the Crimson Caravan a bit and I'm sure you'll be given a job or something to help me clear this up. McLafferty's a bitch, but she has some kind of plan normally." Cass said.

"Alright. I'll be back in a few days, I've got a few other things to settle first. But I'll see what I can do for you Cass. Hope I see you again." Elise said as she drained her glass before standing up and walking out of the barracks.

* * *

It was a few hours before Elise could see Dinky the big Dumb Dinosaur, but this was the first time she really felt happy to see him. She could see a glint of sunlight reflected off a scope in the dinosaur's mouth and held up her hands, palms out, showing a universal sign of coming in peace. As soon as she did, she saw the glint disappear as the scope looked elsewhere for targets. But the odds were that whoever the current sniper was was observing her occasionally to be sure she didn't try anything.

Eventually, Elise finally reached the gate to the town, and spotted a familiar shape. But she paid it no mind, despite the large blue robot trying to flag her down with its cowboy sayings. Elise knew her way around and knew what she had to do here. But the first thing on her mind was seeing if her old room was open. She entered the hotel office and was greeted to the sound of something hitting the floor. "Elise dear? Is that you?" The old woman in charge of rooms in Novac spoke. "My how you've grown!" She exclaimed, walking over to hug onto the woman before her.

"Hi Auntie May!" Elise said happily, returning the embrace. Jeannie May had known her father and her back when she was a child, and if she was still in charge, she knew exactly what this meant. "Aunt Jeannie, is the old room still open? I'd like a place to stay." Elise asked.

Immediately, Jeannie released the embrace, happily going over to the key wall and getting the key to the room that almost never got rented. "Here's the key dear, welcome home!" Jeannie May said happily. "Don't hesitate to ask anyone here if you need anything, but some of us may need a little jogging of our memory."

Elise went to her old room and immediately felt a surge of nostalgia as she stepped into the room. It felt the same as it did all those years ago. Immediately, she dropped her backpack onto the table, along with her rifle, and undid her mantle and breastplate, finding them unneeded in her home. She removed a holster from her belt and kept one ten-millimeter on her as she left the room, now with a considerably lightened load as she only wore the tan fatigues of the NCR military and a pistol at her hip.

She went back down to the office and decided to question Jeannie May about who else was here these days and was happy to hear the two snipers from seven years ago were around. "But what about a man in a checkered suit? Have you seen a guy like that Auntie May?" Elise asked, her voice and expression serious, despite the affectionate name.

"Well, if anyone saw anything, it'd be Boone or Manny. They retired and decided to be our guards, Manny's the day sniper, and Boone works the nightshift, try talking to them, okay dear?" Jeannie May suggested.

* * *

"What? Not even for old time's sake?" Elise was incredulous. Manny was refusing to help an old friend out. They had eliminated a Legion camp together and he was going to want something in return for a little bit of information?

"Look, I'm sorry Elise, but information is a commodity, and honestly, my price isn't caps. Come on, clear out the Repconn Facility, it is for the good of your hometown since me and Boone are stuck here every day. It'd be a big help." Manny said, trying to convince her into doing it. Elise felt a growl rise in her throat as she walked back down the throat of the dinosaur, slamming the door behind her.

A few hours later, at 2000 hours, Elise walked out into the chill air and went back into the dinosaur, hoping Boone would prove more compliant. Immediately when she opened the door, Boone turned with his rifle in her face and dropped it immediately, letting it hang loose in a relaxed grip. "Don't sneak up on me. Sorry." He apologized after warning her. His eyes, hidden by his sunglasses, traveled up and down her form, and he opened his mouth to speak.. "Thought you would've made First Recon by now." he said, commenting on her uniform.

"Wha- Oh no, this was actually a gift from Lieutenant Hayes in Primm. I offered to help get the NCR control of Primm, and he woke me up with a few gifts. Helped me ditch the vault suit I was stuck with..." Elise said.

"Vault suit?" Boone asked, an eyebrow raising from behind his shades. "What have you been up to since we last spoke?" Boone asked, intrigued by the fact she'd apparently needed a vault suit at one point, and that she was now wearing a Pip-Boy.

Elise relayed her entire tale to Boone, which earned more response than one could expect from a man like him. "How in the fucking hell... No, that's not important. What is important is I can get you that information, but I want one very small thing in return. I want you to figure out who sold my wife into slavery." Boone said. "It was Legion, but they knew exactly when I was on-duty, where to go to get around me, everything. It had to be an inside job. When you find them, bring them in front of the dinosaur and put on this beret." Boone said, taking his beret off to reveal a buzzed clean head, handing the valuable piece of red fabric to Elise. "I'll do the rest."

Elise began to respond, but had to stifle a yawn. "Sure you wanna trust me with this?" She asked.

"Yeah. You may have lived here, but you've been gone for a while, and we never really talked much. No one will suspect you." Boone said.

"No, I mean this beret. I've always wanted one. Sure you don't want to use a different signal? I might not give this back." Elise said, yawning again at the end of her sentence.

Boone gave a small snort and an uncharacteristic smile. "You don't give it back, you're next on the list." There was humor in his voice, but Boone disguised it so well, that, even though Elise laughed, she felt a chill run down her back. "Now rest up, start investigating. Don't talk to me again until after this is over." Boone said, and returned to his job as Elise left for her room.

_WOOOOOOIE! This one took alot out of me! Well people, Boone is here, and cass will be in the future. I hope no one minds the liberties I had to take to make things somewhat believable. After all, with Elise's history as a citizen of Novac, and being an NCR citizen, and being dressed in an NCR uniform, one would expect very different dialogue from what little was offered in the game. Well people, hope you enjoyed this!_


End file.
